


Little Boy Lost

by ScarlettWallflower



Series: How They Met [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Bitty Swe and Fin, Gen, How They Met Series, Pre Sufin, Viking Swe I guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-19 00:44:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11302233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarlettWallflower/pseuds/ScarlettWallflower
Summary: Alone in a new land, a little boy searches for his mother but finds someone else instead.





	Little Boy Lost

**Author's Note:**

> Part two of the How They Met series. Originally posted on tumblr.
> 
> A quick disclaimer: I’m not a history major. I know very little about early Nordic history. This story takes place during the general time when Swedish tribes first started coming over into present day Finland. 
> 
> Swerike is the name Swedes probably used to refer to themselves during this time, ergo, it’s what they would have called Sweden back then.
> 
> Suomi is the endonym for Finland.
> 
> The brother Sweden mentions is Denmark. They’ve been separated by their individual tribes for many years now.  
> Okay that’s it, have fun reading!

“Mama?” a small voice whimpered, the lonely sound echoing through the forest on a dreary winter day.

The soft crunch of leaves sounded behind him and the little boy spun around.

“Mama,” he cried, hope and relief etched on his dirty face.

But it was only an old man from his village smiling sadly at him.

“Come with me, little one. The grown ups have finished setting up camp. We’ll need to eat well tonight for the raid tomorrow, won’t we, Swerike?” He extended a large, weather-worn hand and reluctantly, the boy took it and allowed himself to be lead to camp.

“What were you doing out here by yourself?” the old man asked as they traversed the small path he had cleared for them.

“Mama,” the boy sighed, rubbing at the fresh tears forming in his eyes.

“It’s very dangerous. There are savages living in here that might hurt you. I know you’re… well, different than most children, but still. Your mama wouldn’t be in these woods anyway.”

What little sunlight that had escaped the cloud cover was quickly fading as nighttime grew near. The boy squinted, trying desperately to see so much as his own feet in front of him.

In spite of his efforts, the boy failed to notice the gnarled tree root jutting up from the ground and tripped, falling face first into the dirt.

The old man helped him to his feet and dusted him off, gently chastising him for his clumsiness.

As the boy wiped his scraped up hands on his tunic, he thought he heard a rustling sound coming from some nearby bushes and what sounded like a very human gasp.

Before he could grope his way towards the sound to investigate further, the old man picked him up and placed him on his bony hip, carrying him away.

The boy squinted into the dusk, trying desperately to make out the thing in the bushes, but only managed to give himself a headache. Disappointed but not defeated, the boy buried his head into the old man’s shoulder and promised himself that he would come back the next day. 

Perhaps the person in the bushes, savage or not, might be able to help him find where his mother had gone.

 

The next day, as soon as he was certain the adults were preoccupied with other things and not watching him, the boy snuck away from his camp and ran into the forest.

The combination of running and squinting had made him feel dizzy and somewhat sick. He sat down on a mangled old stump and closed his eyes.

He’d been having trouble seeing for quite some time now, but he hadn’t said anything to his parents about it. It was bad enough that his father was always speaking to him in that harsh, disapproving tone, shoving him aside when he felt his son had taken up too much time with his wife; how would he react to learning that his son couldn’t see? It would have been another in a long list of failures and shortcomings.

But he hadn’t seen his father in a long time and he knew that when he found his mother, he would have to tell her the truth. She was such a wise woman, surely she would be able to restore his sight.

When the nausea had passed, the boy opened his eyes. He smiled when he felt the sun prickling his skin. It was as if nature itself was reassuring him that today would be a good day.

Just then, out of the corner of his eye, came a flash of something… yellow?

The boy’s heart galloped in elation. His mother had yellow hair. Maybe it was her!

“Mama!” his small voice piped. “Mama, it’s me!”

He had expected her to hear her sigh of relief, then rush to him, scooping him into her arms and kissing him, telling him how worried she had been.

When there was no strong, warm body holding him, the boy began to panic.

“Mama, mama, help! I’m scared. Where are you? Mama, please…”

He began to cry. He’d been wrong. It wasn’t a good day. His father, mother, and brother, all disappeared. He’d been going along with his people, hoping to find his mother on their travels. Without her, he had no one. The people were kind to him but they didn’t love him. Would there ever be anyone to take her place? He knew that he was an ugly, stupid, clumsy child; was he incapable of love?

“Your mama isn’t here.”

The boy gasped and his head jerked up violently.

“Who’s there?” he called, wiping at his eyes and cursing his poor eyesight not for the first time.

When he squinted, he could see a boy standing in front of him. The boy was smaller than him and had yellow hair. He couldn’t quite make out the expression on the other boy’s face, but it looked somewhat angry.

“I come to this forest all the time. There’s never been anybody else here, except you.”

“Oh,” he whispered. His chest and stomach hurt, like the time he’d fallen off a tree branch while playing with his brother.

The other boy was quiet for a moment and fiddled with his tunic sleeve. Then he looked up and said, “Tell me your name.”

“I’m called Swerike. But my mama called me Swe.” He knew he should be frightened, running away or trying to fight the boy, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Why did it matter what happened to him anymore?

“My name is Suomi. This is my land.” His chest puffed out slightly with pride as he spoke.

“I’ve been away from my land for a long time,” the boy admitted. He thought of the raids and the sea voyages and wondered if all those places he’d been to had little boys just like the two of them.

Suomi scowled and moved in closer.

“I know, you and your people have been invading my land.” And just for good measure, he reached out and slapped Swerike across the cheek.

A red mark appeared on his pale cheek and the boy began crying even harder.

Suomi watched, biting his lip. He thought about Swerike calling for his mother, and wondered if that meant they were both lonely.

He rushed over and hugged Swerike around the neck.

“Please forgive me for hitting you. I’m not angry with you.”

When Swerike didn’t say anything, Suomi blurted out, “My mother is gone too. But we-we can be friends. That way we won’t have to be alone.”

Swerike’s head lifted. He stared at Suomi with his huge blue eyes and Suomi nearly gasped in shock. They were the color of the sea. He’d never seen anyone with eyes like that. Were they magic? Had the gods given them to him? Just who was this Swerike?

“Yes, let’s be friends.” He didn’t say anything after that, just wrapped his arms around Suomi’s waist and cried silently.

Something like a flame licked at Suomi’s heart as he held onto his new friend. A sudden breeze picked up and swished through the trees. It sounded as if someone was whispering, telling him that this boy was going to be very important to him.

The wind kept blowing. The boys didn’t let go of each other.


End file.
